sake.’
She didn’t think that anyone else had noticed. She’d not spoken to him at dinner, but then he’d scarcely looked directly at her either. And they wouldn’t have thought anything of it. He wasn’t one of those who’d been here before.
She said, ‘I’ve been running this place for five years, Mr Ranburn. My staff and I are used to being polite to obnoxious guests—not, fortunately, that we’ve had very many. We never allow a personal dislike of anyone to affect the level of service they’re given.’
He stirred irritably. ‘That wasn’t quite what I meant, and I’m sure you know it. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone with your ability to somehow tackle an issue side-on.’
‘I really don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘You know damn well, you infuriating woman!’
Fler said coolly, ‘We’re also accustomed to dealing with rudeness. But that doesn’t mean we just lie down and take it.’
‘Is this a royal we?’ he enquired.
Sarcastic brute. ‘I thought you were asking me to be nice to you,’ she suggested. ‘If you expect that while you feel free to insult me—’
‘It wasn’t meant to be insulting.’ As she pointedly refrained from comment, he added, ‘But all right, I apologise for losing my temper. Believe it or not, it doesn’t happen often.’
No, he was a cold-blooded animal. She angered him because she had seen through him from the start, Fler decided. ‘Apology accepted,’ she said. ‘And you needn’t worry that my real opinion of you will be in any way apparent to your colleagues, Mr Ranburn.’ She would be the epitome of politeness and co-operation; he’d have absolutely nothing to fault her for. But he needn’t expect friendliness. That would be asking the impossible.
He said very formally, with just a hint of irony, ‘Thank you. Perhaps you could start by calling me Kyle. I noticed that you’re on first-name terms with everyone else, even those who are here for the first time like me.’
Of course she was. There was never any formality at Manaaki, particularly during the summer school. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘All right.’
‘Good.’ He stood for a while facing her as though undecided about something. Then he said deliberately, ‘Goodnight, Fler.’
No one had said her name quite as this man did, lingering over the single syllable as if he could taste it on his tongue, his voice deep and slow. An odd sensation passed over her skin, warm and feathery, as if he had physically touched her.
She shook herself mentally, and clenched her fists against an involuntary shiver.
He was waiting, looking at her. She hoped her eyes weren’t giving away the sudden agitated thumping of her heart. She moistened her lower lip and kept her voice flat, indifferent. ‘Goodnight—Kyle.’
She picked up the tray and took it out, her hands perfectly steady, her mind filled with dismay.
Packing the cups and saucers into the dishwasher in the kitchen, she tried to rationalise.
He had something, undoubtedly, some kind of sex appeal that wasn’t immediately apparent, not all on the surface, and the more potent for that. The man was an expert manipulator, she reminded herself, obviously with a lot of practice. He knew perfectly well what effect he had on women, and OK, she wasn’t immune.
But she was no adolescent innocent, ready to fall at his feet because he said her name in a way that made it sound special. She was a grown woman—older than him, for heaven’s sake! Even if she hadn’t been wise to his games, she had no reason to suppose he’d have been interested in her! His taste ran to younger women. Much younger. Although Devina Roache, for all the unlined perfection of her features, must be over twenty-five.
Not as much over as you are, a mean-spirited inner voice jeered. You’re the mother of one his conquests! He wouldn’t look twice in your direction.
Stop there! Fler ordered herself, appalled at the trend of her thoughts.
Of course she didn’t want to catch Kyle Ranburn’s eye. The less she had to do with him the better. The summer school this year couldn’t be over and done with soon enough for her.
But it hadn’t even started, yet.
* * *
Next morning eager students of all ages from teenagers to white-haired eighty-year-olds descended on the tiny beach community and were speedily dispatched to makeshift classrooms, all within convenient walking distance of the community hall. By ten o’clock, cars had stopped arriving and relative quiet reigned as everyone settled in for the first sessions.
Fler ushered an apologetic late-comer into the front lounge, and returned to the desk to do some bookwork. The door to the lounge was open to allow a cooling breeze to circulate, and she could clearly hear Kyle launching into his session. He would be accustomed to addressing a lecture hall full of students, of course. Although, didn’t they use microphones these days? Anyway, he had a good, deep, clear voice, easy to listen to...
Finding that was what she was doing, she bent her head to the books.
A burst of laughter came from the lounge. Tansy had said he often made his students laugh, it was one of the things she liked about his classes. ‘With him it all comes alive,’ she had said eagerly. ‘He makes the people seem real, not just words in history books.’
Fler picked up a ruler and drew a precise red line under a set of figures. Tansy had said he was brilliant at his subject. But then, she might have been biased.
* * *
At lunchtime Fler helped the kitchen staff serve salad, fruit and cheese for the lecturers. The students either brought their own lunch or made other arrangements.
Kyle said to her, ‘Do you mind if I take mine outside?’ Some of the students were picnicking on the lawn or the veranda steps.
‘Whatever you like,’ Fler told him. ‘Just return the plate later.’
He brought it back as Fler was clearing away the cheese. ‘Sorry, I got talking.’
Fler reluctantly asked, ‘Would you like some cheese?’
‘Thanks.’ Casually he picked a chunk off the plate she was holding.
‘What about coffee?’
He smiled at her. ‘You do live up to your reputation, don’t you?’
‘I’m doing my best.’
The smile turned wry. ‘You know, I’m not the big bad wolf, and I didn’t gobble up your Little Red Riding Hood.’
‘”But Grandma, what big teeth you have”!’ Fler said.
He laughed, then. He didn’t have particularly big teeth, but they were white and even. He looked down at her, the laughter still in his eyes, making him look—damn him!—more dangerously attractive than ever.
Fler swallowed, clamping her own teeth together to stop an involuntary smile.
Kyle shook his head, put the chunk of cheese in his mouth and sauntered out.
CHAPTER FIVE
FLER picked her way across the drift of pebbles and shells and walked into the gentle breakers, wading up to her thighs before plunging under the cool water.
Visitors were told they should take the short walk across the headland to the longer, sandier and gentler beach next door. But on hot summer evenings like this the sea washing into the little cove was tranquil, almost smooth, and a swim was a welcome refresher after a day’s work in the heat.
It felt cold at first but soon warmed, and she stayed in until the last of the daylight was almost gone from the sky.
When